


War Song- (Extremely) Rough Draft

by WolvesOfParadise



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Original work - Freeform, ahhhhhhhhhh, general bullshit bc I suck at writing, my gay bois, unfinished first draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolvesOfParadise/pseuds/WolvesOfParadise
Summary: Unfinished piece of work I did for my creative writing credit.





	War Song- (Extremely) Rough Draft

Andy’s POV

_ We were late. It wasn’t usually that big of a deal, us being late. We almost always were. Today, though, Bryce was hurrying me out the door, coffee in hand, and a big smile on his face. “Come on,” He urged. _

 

_ Usually, he had a neutral voice. A voice that did indeed command respect, but at the same time didn’t outwardly demand it. Easy to ignore, although nobody would want to ignore it. It had a light air to it, although the lying undertone was a bit serious.  _

 

_ The car had already been started- Bryce no doubt had done it while I was in the shower. The short sidewalk between our front door and the car had also been shoveled and salted; I could actually see the mesmerizing contrast between the light brownish-gray of the sidewalk, and the pure, angelic seeming white of the freshly fallen snow.  _

 

_ That was unusual, because I knew how much Bryce truly hated shoveling in the early morning. Even though, technically, it was eleven in the morning and lunchtime. I cast a suspicious glance to my right, one eyebrow raised; he just gave me a slight smirk in response.  _

 

_ Once in the car, Bryce finally broke the news for where we were going and why. He reminded me that yes, it was my birthday, and yes, we were gonna go have the time of our lives. He was driving, as I was eating the remains of his breakfast, and he told me the address. He didn’t tell me EXACTLY where we were going, but he gave me a general idea. He was extremely hyped. His excitement got me excited, and we headed out on the winter roads, towards the freeway, making conversation. I wasn’t really paying attention, though.  _

 

_ That day, they hadn’t salted the roads yet when we left. And I regret, so, so much, not paying attention. _

 

_ 3rd Person POV _

_ The air was thick. It stank, the sheer smell of burning rubber and leaking oil, and Bryce attempted to inhale. His chest was compressed by something hard, and the inhale just resulted in a gasping breath and blood bubbling up his throat. He could feel the heat of whatever was burning, but all he could hear was a high pitched whine. Looking to his right, he could his love. Andrew’s head was covered in blood, and his eyes were wide with panic and fear. _

 

_ With a start, Bryce realized that Andy was the source of the high pitched whine. He was struggling against the seatbelt, but he was trapped by a piece of the door that had caved inwards. From the angle he was sitting, all he could turn was his head. It was bright inside the front of the car, and he could see the extent of Andy’s injuries. Blood was slipping down his jaw from several cuts on the side of his face. Upon further examination, he could see that the cuts were actually from the glass of the window that had shattered. _

 

_ His hips were pinned, and it looked like one of his shoulders was dislocated. Andy was still letting out the high pitched squeal, and there were tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. _

 

_ Andy soon ran out of breath, gasping for air against the compression of his throat, and his eyes very briefly met Bryce’s. They shared a lot in just that look, a split second look that made Bryce want to cry. Pain, fear, anger- every emotion in one.  _

 

_ Bryce could hear people outside yelling, something about sawing off the doors of the car. He couldn’t speak loudly when he tried, the steering wheel- he figured out what was pressing against his chest-  was compressing the amount of air he should’ve been getting. With the one arm that he had free, he reached towards Andy, trying to touch him. _

 

_ Andy’s POV _

_ I couldn’t feel anything on my one arm except pain. It was very obviously bleeding, but I couldn’t feel the warmth of the blood, let alone it running down my arm and down to my fingertips. When I looked at my arm, it appeared shattered. I couldn’t move my fingers, or my wrist, but the muscles in my shoulder were twitching rapidly. I inhaled sharply, realizing that in the amount of time that I was staring at my arm, I hadn’t breathed once. I could see Bryce staring at me out of the corner of my eye; I returned the stare, equally as horrified as he looked.  _

 

_ His chest was….caved in almost. He had been forced up against the steering wheel so hard that it looked like the steering wheel had melded into his chest. Blood had bubbled up through his mouth, his teeth stained with a slight tint of red.  _

 

_ I felt his hand touch my shoulder, above where it was injured, but I didn’t wince. People were yelling- about us, probably. I heard voices getting closer, and suddenly there was someone in the broken window next to me. She appeared outwardly female, and was wearing some sort of paramedic’s uniform. A concerned expression completed the look; the next thing I knew, her hand was on the side of my neck, and I could feel her fingers pressing against the throbbing of my pulse _

 

_ Bryce’s hand slipped off my shoulder limply, and I yelled out as I watched his head slump forward. His eyes were closed, but I could see his chest barely moving. The paramedics were yelling amongst themselves, and I looked at the woman who had taken my pulse. All I could manage when I yelled out was a very panicky:  _ I don’t care what happens to me, just do NOT let him die _. _

 

_ That’s all I really remember from that day. _

 

**_INSERT SOME BIT OF THEM IN THE HOSPITAL/WAKING UP TO THE BAD NEWS AND AMPUTATION HERE_ **

 

Andrew’s POV

**It was obviously difficult for him to stand. My hand was on his lower back, pressing into his spine as I attempted to stabilize him during his first step. Bryce’s breath was wheezy, his hands shaky as he gripped the bars on the side of the walkway. He hadn’t even fully stood up yet, but he was trembling. I wasn’t sure whether it was from the effort or from fear, but either way, I was still here. I was still behind him, one hand in the center of his back, the other gripping his left hip.**

 

**“Okay.” I made sure my voice was powerful and strong, reassuring even, for I knew he was scared. I just wanted him to be okay. “We’re gonna get you to stand up now, okay? You need to stand and take a step. I know you can do it.”**

 

**He looked up at me, his eyes wide in confusion and fear, and he trembled a bit harder than before. His legs were shaky underneath him; he was terrified. He took one step forward with his live leg, gripping the steel bars on either side of him with such force that I honestly believed he would either crush the bar, or break his hand. He buckled a bit as he put his entire weight onto his prosthetic, but was mostly held up by the leg.**

 

Bryce’s POV

**It was terrifying. It felt like I had no control over my body anymore. I was scared and in pain, and my body felt numb. All I could feel was Andrew’s heat against my back, and the belt he had his hand pulling on. He was one of the only factors actually keeping me upright at that point.**

 

**The first step with using all my weight on the prosthetic was jittery, and I buckled a bit, but it was honestly the third step that had done it. When I transferred all my weight onto my prosthetic for the third step, my leg buckled, sending both Andy and I to the floor. It was unintentional, yes, but I smacked my face into the floor with all my weight. Andy was relentlessly apologizing for hours after that, even going and getting ice for my bruised chin.**

 

**After that, I had decided to never try the prosthetic again. I was content with being a handicap with a pair of crutches for the rest of my life.**

 

**_Four Months Later_ **

**It was only slightly cloudy outside. The air smelled of fresh rain and cut grass, and the leaves danced in the evening breeze, throwing rainbow drops of water that shimmered in the halo of the setting sun. Smoke could be briefly smelled if the wind brew the right way, the sure sign of bonfires down the street. Bryce could only imagine, children getting sticky from s’mores made over a campfire, sparklers lit well past sundown. A small smile tugged on the corner of his lips, and he closed his eyes. He imagined what his life could have been like without the accident, what his life would have been like without Andy in it.**

 

**A touch on his shoulder spooked him a bit, and he turned his head quickly. Eye contact, green against amber, a stunning contrast, and the touch turned into a squeeze. The other hand, warm and soft, touched his side, pulling him backwards slightly, leaning into his love.**

 

**“Hey. I have something for you, if you’re up for it. It’s up to you, though.”**

 

**Bryce looked at Andy, really studying him. He wasn’t sure what the surprise was, and wasn’t sure what to expect. He raised an eyebrow, turning his studious look into a look of suspicion, and nudged backwards with his bottom. Andy’s grip tightened on the brunette’s side before letting go.**

 

**“Don’t even begin to give me that look,” He scolded in a light tone. He layered on the sarcasm to make sure that Bryce did, indeed, understand that he was jokingly scolding.**

 

Bryce’s POV

**It was as if the ground was moving beneath my feet.**

 

**_That’s because it was,_ ** **I thought with a start. I hadn’t actually skated since months before the accident. Since months before I lost my leg. I had put my skates away to actually concentrate on the important things; my job, moving, and furthering my life with Andy.**

 

**I had my hands firmly planted on his shoulders, squeezing as hard as I could without actually hurting him. His hands, however, were on my hips, gripping tightly but moving with the rest of my body. He was pushing forward as I was sliding backwards, struggling to keep my feet underneath me steadily- even though they continued to want to go every which way.**

 

**The story of how I had gotten used to my prosthetic was bullshit. How I had finally gotten to be able to walk around the house. Andy had taken my crutches with him to work. It was stupid-**

 

**_It had been four months since the accident. I had been refusing to use my prosthetic, content with only having my crutches. Andy has tried multiple times, actually, dozens to be fair- to get me to use my prosthetic. I protested, I really did. I hated every single second that I had that thing on my leg. Every second. We had fight after fight over it, arguing relentlessly until one of us broke down in tears. Eventually, Andy stopped asking. Stopped begging. And I was content with that._ **

 

**_That day, though, I had woken up late. The sun was filtering in through the blinds in our room, and it was stuffy. The air conditioning in the apartment wasn’t reaching the room through the shut door. It was surprising, though, that Andrew hadn’t woken me. He usually tried- and unsuccessfully I might add, to get me up early for physical therapy. Though, he did move my leg, putting it at the edge of the bed where it was easily reachable even while laying down._ **

 

**_I still hated the sight of it. The shiny metal, the smell of rich leather. It reminded me that I got fucked by the world, that I was one of the unlucky ones. I turned my nose to it, instead opting for my crutches, which were laying parallel to the bed. At least- they were supposed to be?_ **

 

**“What the hell?”**

 

**_It wasn’t originally supposed to be said out loud, but my surprise gave my thought vocalization. Both crutches were gone, which was unusual. I always put them in the same spot every night when I sleep, on the floor, parallel, so I know exactly where they are if I need them. And they were gone._ **

 

**Andrew. That little shit.**

 

**_In the place of my crutches was a single piece of paper. Written in big letters, it said:_ ** **“Wear your leg.”**

 

**_After I angrily put on my prosthetic, which took a hot minute, the next was just a horridly long phone call with my mother- which not surprisingly, I got bored and got up. I was leaning onto things as I just generally paced around the house. Towards the end of the conversation with her, though, I had completely let go of the counters and walls and tables and was walking on my own with no issues._ **

 

**_Andy had come home while I was finishing up on my phone call. I hadn’t heard him come in, I was pacing around with my back to the door, headphones in, ‘excitingly’ talking to my mother. My leg worked fine for me, it didn’t pinch or hurt, and it bent just like my regular leg would._ **

 

**_When I had gotten off the phone, I hung up, and took my headphones out of my ears. Andy cleared his throat, and I nearly jumped a foot in the air. His smile was huge, bright, warm. It was from ear to ear, and the bags of groceries that he had in his hands fell to the floor with a thud. The next thing I knew, I had been up in the air, crushed into a hug by my love, and he was whispering into my ear:_ ** **I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.**

 

**The cracks in the sidewalk had initially made me nervous, but I looked past it when Andy’s reassurance came in the form of a kiss to my forehead, and a gentle squeeze to my arm. He walked up and down the sidewalk, steadying me. He was helping me get my bearings, get my feet beneath me.**

 

Andy POV

**It was like teaching Bryce how to walk again. It was refreshing; for the first time in a while I finally got to see a genuine, not fake smile written on his lips. His eyes were bright- I don’t think he had been outside for quite a few weeks. Bryce’s eyes- they were lit up by the light of the setting sun. It illuminated them brightly, making them so beautiful that it was hard to keep my eyes from just staring, and staring.**

 

**I stopped and thought for a second; I wholeheartedly believed that he would be fine if I let go of him at that moment. He had finally gotten steady and sturdy on his feet, finally gotten okay with moving forward. I glanced at him again, giving him an onceover. My decision was made, and I said his name gently. I waited until he met my eyes, I waited and waited until he finally glanced up at me, his smile growing just the slightest bit wider when he saw me looking at him. I raised an eyebrow, smirking. His face morphed into that of slight confusion, but still relevantly happy.**

 

**And then I let go of him, and backed up quickly.**

 

_**Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best idea.** _

 


End file.
